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“No means no.” I don’t feel like going out, I just want to stay in my apartment, drink my tea, and wallow in my misery. But Gabi is a whirlwind of energy, and she insists that I need to get out of my own head and do something fun.
Alex watches the episode playing on my television as Gabi searches through my closet, picks out my outfit, and fluffs my hair while I apply a quick coat of makeup to cover the ever-present dark circles I seem to wear constantly these days. I shimmy into the dress Gabi has picked, hating every second of this, while my friend gets more and more excited for the night ahead.
“You’ll see, this is exactly what you need,” she promises, holding my hand as we exit my apartment, following my brother to his car. “Nothing heals a broken heart better than food, booze, and maybe some hot guys.”
“Gross,” Alex adds, and this time I agree with him wholeheartedly.
We arrive at our destination, a restaurant, and the colorful exterior and live music is drawing the crowds in. Normally, I’d feel alive among the bustling crowd and the intoxicating scent of food, but not tonight. Still, the upbeat music creates an inviting atmosphere, and Gabi is vibrating with excitement for the night ahead.
The interior is trendy, with modern art adorning the walls, and dim lighting creating a cozy vibe. The tables are set elegantly with white tablecloths, and the plush chairs look inviting. The atmosphere is electric, with people moving energetically on the dance floor at the end of the restaurant.
“This is nice,” I admit reluctantly, placing my clutch on the table and picking up the drink menu to flip through. “I’m a little hungry.”
“Yeah, well, hurry up and eat, because we’re here to dance!” Gabi declares, shifting excitedly in her seat.
Alex nods in agreement. “Yeah, I don’t think a meal is going to do much to shake you out of the boring routine you’ve picked up this week. I’m going to order some of the good stuff. You both like champagne, right?”
“Yes,” I answer for both of us, before letting out a sigh, feeling grateful for their support. “Thanks, guys. I still don’t want to be here, but you might be right about needing a change of scenery. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Gabi gives me a warm smile. “That’s what friends are for.”
Alex then adds, “And family too.”
I grin weakly, feeling a sense of comfort in their words. But the pain still lingers, and I know it will take time to heal. A lot of time, if the depth of my emotions are any indication.
Gabi waves a server over, and while he and Alex talk drinks, my friend leans in and whispers, “You don’t have to force yourself to be okay, Julia. It’s okay to not be okay. Just try and enjoy the night a little, alright?”
“I will.” Hearing the worry for me in her voice makes me even more determined to at least try and make tonight work. “Promise.”
The band on stage is playing a mix of popular hits, and the lead singer’s voice is captivating, making me want to get up and dance despite the misery swirling in my head. The music seems to flow through my veins, and I can’t help but tap my feet to the beat. The waitstaff is dressed in sleek black outfits, making them look effortlessly stylish. They move gracefully between the tables, taking orders and serving drinks with a smile.
I order a few small bites as the place starts to fill up with more and more people, ordering an espresso martini, and then a second one, while I wait for my food. After it arrives, Alex orders a bottle of champagne, and I finish off my martini so I can enjoy the glass he pours me, chewing a bite of bacon wrapped asparagus that does nothing to soak up any of the alcohol in my stomach that is already starting to make my head spin.
A few more friends and acquittances join us, but I can barely muster the strength to socialize. I keep drinking, trying to numb the pain, but it only makes things worse. I can see my brother frowning as I clumsily pour myself another glass of champagne, but he’s pulled into a conversation with one of his friends, and he fails to stop me from continuing to imbibe.
Wow…the alcohol is making me feel better, but it’s also unleashing all of my most private thoughts, too. Sure, I’m not feeling nearly as depressed, laughing and joking with the people around me, but thoughts of Sebastian have nothing to do with our breakup. Flashes of our heated moments in my bedroom start haunting me, so I press my hands to my face to try and stop myself from blushing. It doesn’t work, though, and it’s like I can feel his lips drifting down my neck, ghosting over my collarbone…ugh! I can’t take it anymore!
I excuse myself and head to the bathroom to splash water on my face and try to compose myself, holding onto the ceramic sink until the room stops spinning and throwing on the tap until I can cup handful after handful of cold water in my palms. It’s like ice on my cheeks, but it chases away those lewd memories, at least for a few seconds, and steadies my shaking legs.
As I look at my reflection in the mirror, I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I feel broken, shattered into a million pieces that I don’t know how to put back together, and at the same time, blushing from fantasies of when I almost gave the man that broke my heart my virginity! I can't help but wonder if I’ll ever be able to love again, or if this pain will haunt me for the rest of my life. Then I think about what Sebastian might be doing right this second. Could he be thinking of me? How can one man make me feel so many highs, and then such terrible, inescapable lows? I went from thinking he is my future husband, to knowing without a doubt that he is my ex.
Looking around the bathroom, I realize that no one is in here but me. In the hidden pocket of my dress, the weight of my phone suddenly feels like a million pounds, and it’s begging me to take it out and make a horrible, irresistible decision: Call Sebastian.
Alcohol is coursing through my veins, liquid bravery, and it makes dialing his number all too easy. I don’t even know what I want from him when he answers, but I need some sort of closure.
Or hope. A little hope might be nice, too.
I suppress a hiccup when he picks up, confusion in his voice, “Julia?”
“Tell me one thing, Seb,” I slur into the phone as I pace around the empty bathroom. “How do I go from the love of your life to a nobody in the blink of an eye just because your dad said so? One little chit-chat at the park and that’s it? Our plans for the future are meaningless to you? As I come to think of it, are you such a heartless monster that it doesn’t bother you to move on so swiftly?”
I can hear his hesitation on the other end of the line before he finally responds. “Julia, gosh, I thought it was an emergency—”
“Oh, it is,” I interrupt, my anger rising at his words. “I need closure. I need to know if I should keep hope or should I just...I don’t know...go to one of Mom’s balls and find some companionship there. It worked the first time, maybe it will work again.”
There's a moment of silence before he finally responds. “Julia, my dad just left the hospital and is under twenty-four seven care here at home. He needs my full attention. He has depression and—”
“I need your attention too, Seb,” I say louder, cutting him off. “Did you ever consider that? We had plans for fuck’s sake! Life plans. And excluding me from your life wasn’t part of it.” I can feel my bottom lip wobbling, and I’m infinitely glad he isn’t here to see it. “We were supposed to build a future together. A family, even.”
